


plenty but not whole

by toriiixoox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Face Slapping, Fuckbuddies, Happy Ending, Hate Fuck Fuckbuddies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Sex, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Roughness, Smut, Spanking, but just lowkey tho, but like, but lowkey tho, i promise like, like its like, lowkey possessive behavior, make it toxic, there's resolve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toriiixoox/pseuds/toriiixoox
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi's relationship could be described as a lot of things, but an undisputed characteristic was definitely unhealthy, but hey, it made for really great hate sex, right?Alternately: Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa fucks other people and, sure, it makes the sex better, but that doesn’t mean he likes it.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 4
Kudos: 283





	plenty but not whole

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was completely inspired by the song [ankles by jessie reyez](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPjGCp1C9cY). I am completely obsessed with it. I literally have had this fic in my brain for MONTHS and i finally made it. thank you to my handful of beta readers from tumblr,,, srsly wouldn't have felt as good abt posting it as i DO. anyway,, enjoy this filthy degradation hate fuck smut :>

“So glad you finally decided to grace me with your presence.” The voice comes from the kitchen before the front door has even shut. The rigidness of his tone has Oikawa moving slower than usual, tiptoeing deeper inside, trying not to make any sudden movements or sounds. “What happened to ' _see you at 6'_?”

_To anyone else, their interactions, their entire relationship, would throw up a million red flags._

“Time got away from me, Iwa-chan, I’m sorry,” Oikawa explains, tone soft and apologetic, but the expression on his face is filled with mischief and vex. He slips off his shoes and sets them next to the front door before meeting Iwaizumi halfway, light on his toes, skipping almost. 

_From the outside looking in, these frequent hidden away meetings were so obviously unhealthy._

Before Oikawa has even stopped moving, Iwaizumi’s arm is outstretched. His rough, calloused hand pushes Oikawa’s wrist closer to his own face, long fingers completely encapsulating the slender limb. “What time is it?” One quick stride and Iwaizumi’s chest is nearly pressed up against Oikawa’s. 

_But for them, for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, it was just normal._

Oikawa’s breath catches, swallowing thickly before exhaling and looking down at the watch that’s been forced in his face. The bright numbers are so close to his eyes that the crisp edges of each segment are blurred and the glow that’s being cast from them is dimly illuminating Oikawa’s nose. Each second that ticks by without a vocal answer, he feels Iwaizumi’s grip tightening around his wrist. As much as he wants to play dumb, as much as he knows that it’ll just make Iwaizumi angrier and everything much more fun in the long run, he knows better than to make Iwaizumi repeat himself. 

“1:09,” Oikawa reads, making out the blurred numbers. He didn’t even really need to read his watch. He had been checking the clock, watching each minute pass patiently while he was out and on his way to Iwaizumi’s. 

Iwaizumi throws his wrist back down by his side, freeing his hand to instead grasp onto Oikawa’s hip, digging his fingers into the back and pushing his palm into the front. “Where were you so late?” he asks, stepping forward into Oikawa who instinctively takes a step backward.

“As if you have to ask, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa practically purrs, “I know you’ve been here, worried sick and checking my location every other minute, so why don’t you tell me?”

His stoic facial expression doesn’t change one bit, not to the teasing nor the accusations. Instead, he exhales sharply, his steps forward quickening so much that Oikawa’s nimble feet can’t catch up, tripping over themselves and tumbling backward. Iwaizumi’s arms stay frozen by his side, not reacting to brace or help him, but making two more strides forward and pushing him along. His back collides harshly with the wall behind him, fear evident in his eyes and his harsh breathing. “Are you in charge here, Tōru?”

Any bite that he had is gone with Iwaizumi's commanding tone. He is as he shakes his head no, struggling to regain his composure. The motion isn’t enough, Iwaizumi pushes into Oikawa so hard that his spine is pressing into the wall. Iwaizumi lowers his head next to Oikawa’s ear, smirking through his sentence as he repeats himself. “I said… are you in charge?” he asks again. 

“No,” Oikawa answers, almost whispering. 

“No what? Who’s in charge?” He’s so close to Oikawa’s neck that Oikawa can feel his hot breath on his skin and collarbones. 

“I’m not in charge, Iwa-chan. You’re in charge,” Oikawa gulps, breathing as slowly as he can.

“Pathetic,” Iwaizumi retorts as he drags his teeth against the soft flesh of his neck, biting until Oikawa whines. He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I want you upstairs, completely naked on the bed with your ass in the air in 2 minutes.” With his nose pressed against Oikawa’s neck, he can feel him swallow nervously. “You’ve already wasted so much of my time tonight. Go… Now.”

Oikawa doesn’t nod nor show, in any way, a signifying notion of understanding, he doesn’t waste his time with it. Instead, he hurriedly makes his way up the stairs, almost tripping again on his own two feet. 

When Iwaizumi finishes counting out the two minutes, he makes his way into the room. The sight upon opening the door makes his cock immediately jump to attention. Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi wasn’t in any headspace to mess around, not when he was looking so forward to having him all to himself tonight. He notices Oikawa’s clothes on the floor, evidently shed without a care, and the bottle of lube that was set out on the bedside table, the cape off. 

This was one of their favorite positions to be in. There was something about Oikawa with his ass so high in the air, thighs spread as far apart as they could be while still supporting his weight, legs trembling in anticipation, the small of his back glistening with sweat from the tightening of all his muscles, the way his cock would ache and swell and leak onto the sheets with no way to alleviate the throb, how weak and submissive he looked from above. 

For Oikawa, it was how he never knew what was coming, when it was coming, how hard or rough it would be. He could feel the mattress behind him shift in the tiniest of variations and he could hear Iwa’s breath, but all he could focus on was being perfectly still. Some nights he would tease him from this position, wiggling his hips or turning his head back and antagonizing him, but he knew that wasn’t something he could get away with tonight, not when Iwaizumi’s eyes were as cold as they were tonight, not without consequence at least.

“I know you love when I fuck you like this.” Iwaizumi’s voice feels so close to Oikawa that his core feels hot. He can barely focus on the words that he’s saying, he feels so drunk on expectation. Still, with his hazy mind, he manages to make out the words that he’s saying, each one causing blood to rush to his swollen cock. “You can think of whoever you want with their fingers deep inside your tight asshole.”

The distinct sound of the cap of the lube closing and the feeling of Iwaizumi’s two fingers plunging inside him nearly overlaps. The initial stretch makes him jump and whimper, but the reaction only makes Iwaizumi press into him deeper. He pulls his fingers apart, scissoring his tight hole open already. Even from this position, he can’t help but bite back. “Anyone I want, Iwa-chan?” he laughs between moans. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t say another word, doesn’t offer a rebuttal of any sort, just adds another finger, fucking so deep into him that his dull fingernails are grazing his prostate ever so slightly. Each gentle contact elicits a gasp from Oikawa, but none of them are direct enough to pleasure him like he knows Iwaizumi can. 

Oikawa’s so tight around Iwaizumi’s fingers that he can barely move them. “I bet they all take their time with you, huh? Get you nice and stretched? Play with you to your heart’s content?” Oikawa suddenly feels so empty, but only for a few seconds. 

In one motion, half of Iwaizumi’s cock is buried deep inside of Oikawa. His hole is so tight that it’s choking his cock. It feels so fucking good that he can barely keep himself from pounding into him already. Oikawa is gasping for air, crying out with high pitched moans as he feels his ass being filled. Iwaizumi's girth burns inside of him, but the feeling of fullness is satisfying him so much that the pain fades to the background quickly. “Please, please,” he mutters, wanting more.

“But you don’t like when people are nice to you, huh? Not really. Not as much as you love when I treat you like shit.” He slides the rest of his cock into Oikawa with a low grunt, pressing his hips flush against his skin and clawing into hip bones. “That’s what you deserve, anyway.”

Oikawa nods, hoping that by agreeing with him, he just starts fucking moving. He needs to feel him stabbing into his gut over and over again. Iwaizumi laughs as he starts moving Oikawa’s small frame back and forth on his cock, looking down at Oikawa’s greedy hole swallowing his cock repeatedly, throbbing inside of him from how tight he’s squeezing him. 

He lets go of his hips completely, leaning back to get the whole view. It’s everything about the scene that’s making his cock ache. “Fuck yourself,” Iwaizumi demands as he just sits back and watches. Oikawa immediately starts swaying forward and backward, his asshole hungrily devouring Iwaizumi’s cock inch by inch. He pulls off of his cock fast, lunging forward and feeling his insides empty, Iwa’s bulbous head threatening to slip out, but he fucks himself slow. He pushes back, guttural groans escaping him as he rolls his hips, taking Iwaizumi inside of him as deep as he can. 

Calloused hands grasping onto his hips stop his movements in place. He swallows, bracing himself for what he knows is about to happen. “So fucking slow, teasing yourself like a little whore,” he says, disgusted. He thrusts inside of him so hard that his hips sting. His thrusts are almost as slow as Oikawa’s, but they’re much harsher. 

Each thrust gets progressively faster, but they’re each just as hard. “Say my name,” he groans, picking up speed until the rhythmic sound of their skin slapping against each other nearly overlaps. 

“I-Iwa-chan,” Oikawa moans as coherently as he can. 

“No.” He pushes the bottom of his palm into the base of Oikawa’s skull. The force knocks Oikawa into the pillow, his forearms collapsing. “ _My name,”_ he growls. With the position that he's forced the smaller man into underneath him, Oikawa’s moans are muffled. He can’t speak clearly, but Iwaizumi wants him to try. 

He slams his hips against Oikawa’s ass repeatedly, the wet sound drowning out nearly everything in the room. “I know it might be hard,” Iwaizumi pants as he pounds deeper, “remembering my name among all of the other bitches that you fuck.”

Oikawa tightens around him at the sentence, letting out a scratchy moan into the pillow. “I- Iwa-chan.” Iwaizumi’s flat palm meets Oikawa’s pale skin, marking him with a pink tinge that quickly turns red. Iwa can still feel the stinging against his hand, knowing how much worse it has to be for Oikawa who constricts around him again. He can feel the sting intensify in his palm as he grabs Oikawa’s hips again, pulling him roughly back into him, watching his cock disappear inside of him. 

His fingers drag up Oikawa’s spine, grabbing his shoulder for more power. “ _My name,”_ his voice is dripping with venom. 

Iwaizumi doesn’t stop hammering into him as he waits for a response. “No one else fucks you this good, Tōru, I know that for a fact,” Iwaizumi says, his fingernails digging into his collarbone as he uses Oikawa’s body to fuck himself. “You know who’s deep inside of your fucking guts right now. You know the only person who can make you this fucking hard, dripping and fucking pathetic, without even touching your cock.”

It takes every ounce of strength that Iwa hadn’t already taken from him to lift his face out of the pillow, fighting against Iwaizumi’s hand that's found its way into his hair, gripping so tightly that his arm is shaking. If Oikawa hadn’t pulled his face up, Iwa wouldn’t have been able to hear him. “Hajime.” Oikawa’s voice is low and hoarse, taking far too long to recite his name, but Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa’s been thinking it this entire time. 

He collapses back into the pillow, chest heaving from the amount of work that he had to do just to lift himself up. Oikawa can only imagine what the entire scene looks like, how pathetic he looks struggling to even breathe while Iwaizumi uses him as his own personal fuck doll, and how much more pathetic he looks dripping from the thought. 

With the fist he’s made in Oikawa’s soft hair, he drags him up off of the pillow. His other hand stays braced on his shoulder, pulling him harshly onto his cock. “Wow. I can’t believe a dumb slut like you would remember, even if I do make your filthy body feel better than it ever has.”

“Fuck you,” Oikawa pants, his voice fluctuating with how hard Iwaizumi is ramming into him. Oikawa often liked to mouth off, tease, try to get his way, but he’s never acted out this bad. Feeling Iwaizumi throb angrily inside of him and the guttural groan that he lets out in response proves how much he loves this newfound hate filled back talk. The grip in his hair gets tighter and his hips are meeting Oikawa’s ass with drive that he’s never felt before and Oikawa is staring forward with the most mischievous smile on his face.

“What was that?” Iwaizumi challenges, making sure that he’s heard right, but not slowing down in the slightest. 

Iwaizumi always fucks him so good, but this speed and hatred is unmatched. He wants more, no. He doesn’t just want more, he _needs_ more, he’s craving it so badly that his head feels foggy, clouded with greed. A thick glob of spit that accumulated in his mouth slides down his throat first, clearing any ounce of hesitance or fear before he lets the words come out. “Fuck you.” It’s so much harsher than he anticipates it. If he didn’t know Iwaizumi as well as he did, he wouldn’t even have noticed the tiny stutter in his thrusts that dissipated as quickly as it came, making way, instead, for something he’s never experienced before. 

“What? All of a sudden you don’t like when I treat you like the dirt whore you are?” Iwaizumi’s words have blood rushing to Oikawa’s angrily hard cock that has yet to be touched all evening. He’s desperate for any amount of friction against it, but he knows Iwaizumi isn’t going to give it to him and his own hands are bracing the mattress beneath him, holding up his weight so he doesn’t suffocate in the pillow. Even if they weren’t, he knew Iwaizumi would tie him up in an instant if he tried to jerk himself off right now. 

Iwaizumi snakes his hand that isn’t weaved through his hair in a tight fist around Oikawa’s shoulder and wraps it around his throat. Each time that he slams inside of him, he pulls Oikawa onto him as well, choking him with every rapid thrust. The rhythmic decrease of air making it into his lungs has him feeling lightheaded in the best way. He’s pulling Oikawa onto him so frequently, that the choke is almost constant. 

Until it’s not. 

Until Iwaizumi lets go of Oikawa altogether, letting him fall into a crumbled mess on the pillow in front of him. Oikawa’s trembling arms collapse with the lack of strong support, causing his shoulders and face to press deep into the plush fabric below him. Iwaizumi positions himself above Oikawa, the bottoms of his palms pushing all of his weight onto Oikawa’s lower back, holding him perfectly still.

“Do you hate me when I hold you down like this, huh?” His thrusts are slower now, but just as hard, punctuating every word with a hard smack. Oikawa tries, struggles as hard as he can, to move his upper body. At first, he tries to push himself up to reply, to offer some backtalk or witty comment that would get him in trouble. When he can’t do that, he’s trying to separate himself from the pillow just long enough to get a good breath. When he can’t do _that_ , he’s just trying to move his arm to stroke himself _at least_. 

But the position that Iwaizumi has forced him into doesn’t allow for any of that. He feels helpless like he can’t move at all. Iwaizumi’s far too strong and filled with rage to let that happen right now. “Do you?” he asks again, more cruel this time. 

His response is entirely muffled by the pillow, but Iwaizumi just fucks him into it deeper. “Louder. I can’t hear you when you’re pressed into the pillow like that,” Iwaizumi commands, picking up his pace back to where it was before. Oikawa’s whimpers and moans are enveloped by the cushion, but the louder they are, the more that Iwaizumi can make out between the wet slapping sounds of Oikawa being rammed. 

“MMFcng hmte mou.”

Iwaizumi pushes into Oikawa’s lower back until he’s lying flat on the bed on his stomach. The small amount of friction from the sheets below has Oikawa exhaling breathy moans, his hips grinding against the mattress. He quickly flips him over, cutting off any relief that Oikawa’s neglected cock was getting from the dry, rough sheets. 

“Legs, spread, open.” Oikawa listens as quickly as he can for his own sake, holding his legs with his knees to his chest. He loved when Iwaizumi fucked him from behind. He loved how rough and commanding he could be with him without having any clue what was going to happen next. He loved the leverage that Iwaizumi got and the submissive positions that he pushed him into, but nothing compared to watching Iwaizumi’s hungry eyes scan Oikawa’s body as he held himself open. 

“Look at your loose hole, gaping for my cock,” Iwaizumi shook his head in disgust, though a smile crept onto his face, his fist gliding up and down his own cock, teasing Oikawa in showing him exactly what he wasn’t allowed to do to his own mistreated length. “Fucking whore,” he punctuates his repulsion by filling him until his balls smack against Oikawa’s ass. He quickly sets pace again, this time making direct eye contact as he abuses Oikawa’s swollen nub with the head of his cock. The pleasure is sending shockwaves throughout his entire body so powerfully that his limbs start shaking. 

“Iw-Iwa-chan,” he whimpers, head rolling backward, the top of his skull plunging as deep as it can into the plush cushion.

“Look at me while I fuck you.” Iwaizumi grabs his chin, forcing his head back down and staring into his teary, blissed out eyes. “Look at me while I fuck you like the useless slut you are.” The look on his face could only be described as sinister, antagonizing, ruthless. 

He knows exactly what Iwaizumi is trying to get out of him with his relentless degradation. He’s power hungry, urgently in need of the hateful, insolent contempt just so that he can fuck him into submission. Oikawa’s cock throbs at the thought. “Fuck you.” It’s much more timid than he wants it to be, but staring up at Iwaizumi’s resentful expression is shaking him more than he thought it would. 

“Is that all you can say?” he asks, tilting his head as he pulls his cock almost completely out of him. 

“No, Iwa-chan, please,” Oikawa immediately reverts to desperate, begging, and complacent as soon as he stops fucking him. 

“Beg for it,” Iwaizumi taunts, fucking him shallowly now, his head popping out and back in past his now stretched rim. “Stupid bitch wants my cock, then beg.” 

“Please, please, deeper, Iwa-,” he starts begging like it’s the only thing he knows how to do, ready for the pleas to leave his mouth quickly so that Iwaizumi will start fucking him again. He’s stopped abruptly by the stinging of his cheek, the back of Iwaizumi’s hand leaving a mark on his soft skin as tears flow from his one eye. 

“You can do better than that. I know you can,” Iwaizumi says as he grabs Oikawa’s chin again, digging his fingertips into his already bruised cheek. “You want to be fucked like a whore, then beg like a whore.”

Oikawa bites the inside of his cheek, looking up at Iwaizumi with downturned brows knitted together in the middle. “I fucking hate you,” he hisses. As much as he’s mentally bracing for the backlash, he makes sure he keeps his face unphased, an angry expression growing in passion as he watches Iwaizumi’s reaction unfold. 

It’s like something snaps. 

Every bit of proof that has ever convinced Oikawa that playing dumb or acting coy to provoke Iwaizumi is incinerated in that moment. A darkness falls over Iwaizumi’s eyes that’s terrifying enough on its own, but coupled with the smirk and the click of his tongue, fills Oikawa’s entire body with a level of excitement and panic that he’s never felt. 

Iwaizumi has never been happier with a decision than the fact that he flipped Oikawa over so he could look at his pretty face when he built up the courage to tell him he hated him. He was able to see the build up and the thought process and how nervous he looked when he said it, despite how confident it came out. The fraction of regret as the words left his mouth is something that he would never forget. 

“Good.”

Iwaizumi’s cock feels swollen inside of him, bigger somehow, as he fucks him with so much force, it takes his breath away. More than being suffocated by pillows, more than being choked by Iwaizumi’s strong hands, it wasn’t that he couldn’t get a _good_ breath, it was that he couldn’t get a breath at all. 

“Tell me you fucking hate me.” Each time Iwaizumi’s cock rams into him, it forces an exhale out of him. The pace is so rapid with such quick succession, so close together, so insistent, that he can’t fucking breathe. 

“Fucking… hate…. you,” Oikawa manages to breathe out as convincingly as he can while being fucked senseless. 

“Hurry up and come so that you can rush back out to whoever can’t satisfy you like I can,” Iwaizumi spits. His breathing is becoming more and more labored as his thrusts get sloppier. 

As good as Iwaizumi feels inside of him, his cock is aching, precome dribbling from the engorged head as it throbs with every direct hit to his prostate. Oikawa’s furrowed eyebrows and hateful speech are subsiding quickly as the corner of his eyes fill with tears and whimpers erupt from his throat. He knows that if Iwaizumi just wrapped his pretty fingers around his cock, he’d come with one dry pump. He doesn’t say anything, his lip quivering as his hips buck upward reactively. 

“What? Is my cock not enough for you?” Iwaizumi asks, looking down at how pitiful Oikawa looks under him. As much as he wants to keep pistoning into him, he’d much rather slow down and watch Oikawa go crazy. The second that his thrusts start slowing down, Oikawa’s shaking his head. Iwaizumi angles his cock to purposefully miss his swollen prostate. Oikawa shakes his head harder, his hair tangling from the rough contact with the pillow. 

“Please, Hajime, please,” Oikawa gasps, finally being able to breathe again. 

As much as Iwaizumi wants to make him come without being touched at all, as much as he wants to punish him for the hate filled comments, as much as he wants to show Oikawa who is wholefully and unconditionally in charge, one look down at his pleading face and Iwaizumi’s tough front is crumbling. “Please,” Oikawa pleads one final time, tears streaming down his cheeks as his cock twitches and leaks. 

“Not until I come deep inside of you, Toru, mark you so that everyone knows you’re fucking mine,” he grunts, picking up speed one last time. His breath picks up until it’s coming out in short, close together exhales, sweat dripping off of his skin and onto Oikawa. “Tell me that you’re fucking mine.”

There’s no hesitation in the admittance. “I’m yours, Hajime, I’m yours, fuck.”

With a final thrust and a groan so deep and low that it feels like it shakes the room, Iwaizumi sprays as deep as he can. His cock pulses against Oikawa’s tight rim with every stream of cum that coats Oikawa’s warm walls. He presses his hips flush against Oikawa’s ass as he unloads inside of him, not moving so that his hot cum can reach as deep as possible. When the last bit dribbles out, he starts moving again, sloppy this time and with a different purpose. The cum that’s dripping out of his asshole is coating every inch of Iwaizumi’s cock, making his length glide in and out of Oikawa with ease. 

He reaches down to collect whatever’s dripped out of his ruined asshole and coats his fingers in it as he lazily thrusts into his prostate with his softening cock. “Do you want to come?” Iwaizumi asks. It’s obviously rhetorical, but Oikawa is nodding so fervently in the chance that if he didn’t answer, he wouldn’t let him come. 

Iwaizumi palms his cock, gliding his cum covered fingers up the length and around his swollen, red head. He uses his middle finger to play with the slit, a constant stream of precome flowing from it, coating Iwaizumi’s finger even more. Oikawa’s hips are shaking as he tries to stop himself from thrusting into Iwaizumi’s hand, trusting him instead to take care of him.

Still, he whimpers as he teases him even more, just wanting to feel his hand wrapped around him completely, using his cum to jerk him off. “Please, Iwa-chan,” he whimpers softly. 

He lets his fingers wrap around his aching, neglected cock. It’s throbbing already, precome leaking constantly and his balls tightening from the small amount of contact. “Come, baby,” Iwaizumi commands, but his voice is much less filled with hate. He pumps his cock three times. 

The feeling of Iwaizumi’s cum around his cock, the calloused pads of his fingers, the perfectly tight grip, the sweet command, it’s all too much. It only takes three strokes and Oikawa’s painting his own chest with strings of sticky white cum. Gratitudes are leaving his mouth incessantly as his hips leave the bed, thrusting into Iwaizumi’s hand and fucking his orgasm to completion. His eyes are squeezed tight and his toes are curled tightly as the streams of cum get less forceful. Even after he’s finished spurting cum all over himself, the shockwaves that come after hit him hard, his muscles tightening and his cock twitching.

Iwaizumi pulls out of Oikawa, letting the cum dribble out of his loose hole as he throws a dirty t-shirt at him. “Clean yourself up,” he calls out, walking to the bathroom.

“Not even going to help me clean up, so mean,” Oikawa pouts, but obeys. 

* * *

“God, that was incredible. I could literally fuck you nonstop until the end of time. I don’t need anything else,” Oikawa says once Iwaizumi had sat back down on the bed with him.

Oikawa’s words stung, even if they were supposed to be a compliment. If he didn’t need anything else, then why did he need any _one_ else? Most of the time, Iwa would just brush off his comments and stupid sentences, but he couldn’t get this one out of his head. He knew he was going to start another fight, but he didn’t care. 

“You obviously do need something else,” Iwaizumi mutters, “or someone, I guess.”

“Excuse me? What was that?”

“I said that you fucking obviously do need something else,” he scoffs, angrier this time for having to repeat it. 

“Are you trying to go for round two, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa purrs, stepping closer to him. Iwaizumi honestly could. It takes everything in him not to wrap his fist around Oikawa’s pretty throat and throw him back onto the bed again. He shakes the thought from his mind. 

“No.” It’s cold and harsh as the two letters leave his mouth. 

“No?” Oikawa’s surprised, his eyebrows raising high. This was typically how things worked. The more Iwaizumi got angry or spoke out, the more riled up he would get, the harder he would fuck Oikawa later. Maybe he was waiting then? “Then, what, Iwa-chan?” 

“Nothing, forget it,” Iwaizumi shakes his head as he stands up from the bed. 

“No, Iwa-chan, what?” he asks, moving closer to him, but not standing up to meet him.

“You said that you don’t need anything else, but you obviously do.” Oikawa’s not entirely sure if this is just another build up, or if this is how Iwaizumi actually feels. They’ve never gone this deep into it before. 

He cocks his eyebrow. “What’s really wrong?”

“That’s exactly what’s wrong! I’m just one of the many people that you fuck, but you’re it for me and I don’t think I’m okay with that anymore.” Iwaizumi starts the sentence strong, but by the end, his voice is wavering, unsure of itself or its follow through.

“Okay,” Oikawa says, nodding. It’s not elongated or accusing, it’s just a statement. 

“Okay what?”

“That’s okay that you’re not comfortable with that anymore. I just won’t fuck other people,” Oikawa shrugs as if it was that easy. 

“What? After all this time? You’re just going to-.”

“You’ve never said anything like that before, Iwa-chan. You’ve said it during sex, sure, but never like this. What? Do you think that anyone has priority over you?” Oikawa scoffs now, shaking his head, almost laughing at the thought. “Never.” 

Iwaizumi swallows, nodding hesitantly. “Okay.”

“No one has anything on you,” Oikawa admits. If nothing else, he was honest. He was always honest about seeing other people, about who they were, about what they meant to him. He had no reason at all not to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. It felt so unreal, but he had no reason not to. He nods again. 

The weight of the bed shifts, a divot created where Iwaizumi has sat next to Oikawa, his side practically flush against the other’s. The aura of the room is different now, neither of them really knowing what to say next. They change positions, always caused by Oikawa shifting and wriggling, but they stay silent as they do until both of their backs are leaning up against the headboard.

“What if our sex isn’t as good now?” Iwaizumi asks, disrupting the peaceful quiet they had been surrounded in. 

“What? Iwa-chan, we don’t have to hate fuck to have great sex!” Oikawa exclaims, furrowing his eyebrows and pushing him lightly. 

“No, dumbass. What if our sex isn’t as good because you don’t have any small dicked floozies to compare our incredible sex to?”

Oikawa opens his mouth, shutting it quickly before scoffing. “That’s mean, Iwa-chan, that you would think that’s the only reason we have good sex.”

“I didn’t say it was the only,” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, “I just asked about the possibility.”

Oikawa doesn’t even reply, just tucks himself into Iwaizumi’s side, resting his head on his chest softly, tentatively with the slightest amount of apprehension. It was completely uncharted territory. Sometimes they would fall asleep in the same bed after a particularly tiring night, but at most they would roll into one another and then sleep on far opposite sides of the bed. 

There were never any times of cuddling or aftercare, so when Oikawa leans his weight onto Iwaizumi’s chest, they both freeze for a moment, going completely rigid. Oikawa lets his fingers float gently over top of Iwaizumi’s bare stomach before tucking them underneath the other side. He stills in this position, waiting for Iwaizumi to shake him off or move away, but rather, he snakes his arm around his shoulder, pulling him into him deeper. 

They’re quiet for the rest of the night, letting the noises in the room and their constant contact speak volumes instead until the nervousness and anxieties fade into blissful sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> thank you so much for reading! feel free to leave a comment and/or a kudo! this was my first time writing for iwaoi,, so i hope you all liked it!! interactions are more appreciated than you know!!!!!
> 
> if you want to follow me on tumblr, talk or whatnot, you can find me @a-kaash-me-outside! (i'm currently doing a 1000 follower event with a bunch of asks and hc and such,, so come on over!) ((i've also been looking for beta readers if you're into that stuff and wanna vibe and interact!!))


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